I Got A Shield
by nadiamirah
Summary: It was a one sided battle. Your men are retreating, your comrades have fallen, bloodshed is everywhere. All hope seems to be lost. What will Italy, the cowardly soldier, do?


**Warning!: One shot. OOC.**

* * *

He heard it all, the cries of all sorts: battle cries, cries of pain, cries of victory. As he remained crouched behind his cover of sandbags, he couldn't help but think that his side was ultimately losing. His enemy were ready when they invaded, armed with guns and arrows and more men they thought they would have. The moment they stepped into their territory, that's where the alarms sounded and automatically, both sides got caught up in battle. They were having the upper hand in the beginning, however, things had decided to turn the tables for them and now, their strong was decreasing by the second.

The army soldier peeked out from behind his shelter, horrified at the sight before him. Corpses of _his _comrades lay sprawled out carelessly, blood oozing out of their ghastly, unsightly, large wounds. Arrow fletchings **[A/N: The back of an arrow. I Googled it.] **stuck out from some of them, glowing red and bloody in the light of the battlefield. The unmistakable smell of fresh blood and rotting flesh filled his nostrils, ultimately making him gag and wanting to puke. Shots of gunfire and and clanging of metal can be heard in the distance, as he saw some of his mates fight off the men of the other team, trying to defend themselves, but failed in the end and recieved either a bullet through their heads or a blade piercing their vital areas. The soldier prayed silently in honour of their service as he retreated back into his cover. From the cliff that overlooked the battlefield, he could see his team's last line of defence and morale, the men armed with the bow and arrow. They were the ones holding back the other from invading quickly, and they were going strong. However, as the numbers declined, so did their arrows, and ultimately, they too were given a taste of their own medicine.

He wondered what he should do. The numbers were declining fast, and there was no way he wanted to give up now. His army had come so far and wide, and all that for nothing? He held back a gulp of nervousness that was wrecking his body to no end. Why was this happening? He thought that he had it planned out well with the Commander. They were certain it was going to work. So, what is this he is seeing now? _No, I refuse. I refuse to give in to those pesky Westerners!_

He peeked out once again, devising his plan of attack. The other were approaching fast, faster than he imagined and intimidating as can be. He started sweating cold. Suddenly, a soldier pointed his gun at him from behind his spot. The soldier screamed in surprise and fear. He was going to get shot! It's the end of his life! However, before he could say his prayers, an arrow dug itself into the other soldier's head, throwing him off his feet and he landed back-first to the ground, blood gushing out of his wide wound that scarred his tanned forehead. The soldier stared over him; he was officially dead, and he sighed. _That was a close call._ He silently thanked his savior and retreated back to his protection. _If only I had something to protect me from that... _Then it came to him.

He got it. He had a idea. And a good one in fact.

He immediately started looking around his area for things he could use...

* * *

Germany peeked over the edge of the cliff. He was stationed with the archers, watching over the battle between the Allied Forces. It had finally came, the moment that he dreaded the worst. His side was losing very badly. America was prepared (for a change). _Guess we underestimated them too much. _He sighed in exasperation.

The archer opposite him turned to him frantically, "Sir! We're running out of arrows, sir-!", and just as Germany turned to shout and order, the archer was immediately shot by a blue arrow. The Allied Forces' arrow.

He looked over the edge again. The front lines were getting closer. They had passed the two-third line mark. He was frantic inside. _No, we cannot lose the battle now! _As he racked his brains for ideas to boost morale, a scream emitted from the battlefield, tearing him from his train of thought.

He noticed Italy running towards the crowd of Allied soldiers, his sword sheathed and replaced with a gun, which he was shooting endlessly in wild directions, with a metal sheet that he doesn't remember bringing along as resources. The Allied soldiers in his area started fire, in which he cringed for Italy's worse, but he kept on running, successfully shooting down a good amount of soldiers, slowly making a pathway for him to continue charging forward. His metal sheet was protecting him from the gunfire that could easily end his life! The soldiers were baffled, Germany could tell, and some immediately started retreating. However, Italy showed no mercy and continued firing, picking up a new gun once the one he held ran out of shells. Needless to say, Germany was surprised. He had never seen this side of his goofy, carefree ally before. He smiled to himself. _He's finally manning up, huh? His younger self would be proud.* _ He turned back and ordered some archers to start making and finding some metallic sheets that they could use as well, and the soldiers ran off without another word. He knew, this was the way to go. With Italy's new idea, they could actually win this war.

* * *

"O-Oh my..." England stuttered, peering into his antique-looking binoculars, with a stoic expression etched on his face.

America glanced at him from the corner of his eye, stopping him from taking a bite off his burger, "What is it, dude?"

England's thick brows furrowed, "Someone's managed to infiltrate..."

"What?! Where?!" America cut him off, throwing his untouched burger to the side and snatched England's binoculars from his hands, peering through them. It was impossible, he thought. He came way more prepared than he (and England) thought he could come. As he scanned the battlefield, he noticed a brunette soldier with a sleepy but determined look on his face barging through his soldier's line of defence, waving about _their_ machine gun and holding a thick sheet of metal in front of him. America could not believe his eyes. Within seconds, he was halfway across the battlefield. He panicked.

"W-What do we do, man!?" America yelled, flailing his arms so fast that people would think he's trying to fly.

The blond man beside him shrugged, "You're the Commander here. You specifically said earlier that to leave all things to you. So, why should I bother helping you?" He picked up his tea cup and drank from it.

"I don't remember saying that!" America retorted back, and a petty fight between the two insured in the Allied Forces stronghold.

* * *

Italy finally managed to get to the two-third mark. He saw men in large numbers started to march towards him. They were armed with every single gun that he could imagine. He was pretty tired from running through the men before, but, after seeing the Allied Power's stronghold just metres away, a new surge of energy coursed inside him. He smirked. They had no chance.

"I got a shield, motherfucker!" he cried, charging forward head on.

* * *

**Hello, everyone. I got this idea from the blooper reel of Hetalia: World Series Season 4. ChibiLithuania's voice actor screwed up a line in the scene where his character was talking about his country (I think?) and he got hit by an acorn. Then, ChibiLithuania held a shield and his VA was like "I got a shield, muthafuckar!". It was really hilarious and I needed to write a story around that.**

**I changed the character from Lithuania to Italy because I think Italy really needs to man up at a point in his life and I adore him very much. I wish I had his character. So adorable. Plus, it was slightly easier as I knew Italy better than Lithuania.**

**This is another one-shot (I have a thing for one-shots now). Also, this is (obviously) set outside the actual anime/manga. So, easy on the flames!**

**Thanks for reading! 'Till next time, have a nice day!  
****~nadiamirah**


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